Eight years had passed. Eight years filled with joy. Given, this joy was not without its sorrows, the occasional thought of regret, a what-if, a passing thought of what might have been had they not rebelled against the Valar, but those were soon forgotten. 

Amarië was no longer troubled by nightmares. Her sleep had been unbroken and peaceful for the first time since setting foot in Middle-earth. Finrod was glad for her sake, but sometimes she caught him looking at her with an expression of sadness. She had never asked him of what it was he was thinking of, but she had a guess of what it was. She too, had a seed of bitterness within her against Morgoth. He had stripped her of strength, health, and the ability to bear children. That loss may not have been so unbearable at times had she been able to have just one child. She often whispered to Varda her wish, but never expected an answer. She did not know if the Valar even still remembered the Elves that had departed years ago, or if they had simply chosen to forget them. 

Finrod, while busy with various things in the morning hours, usually managed to clear way his afternoons to spend with Amarië. She would read in the morning and then they would speak to each other, read, or she would listen to him play and sing songs they had written together in Valinor, songs she had discovered in the book she had given him years before. He had begun to compose songs of his own now, new ones. They were not as joyful and free as the ones from before, for always there was the underlying melody of grief. But they were still beautiful, in a way that they wouldn't be otherwise. 

Finrod often called Amarië her old name, Elthríel, meaning starlight, as he said it was poetic and he had grown accustomed to calling her that before he had known her true person.   

And in all of this, they had nearly forgotten Morgoth's threat. There was no hint of it. Amarië had been free from pain and tormented dreams; and so they had ignored it. Finrod thought of it, sometimes, but then pushed it away. Surely, if Morgoth had wanted to cause the most damage, he would have weakened Amarië to death before they had been wedded. 

With Amtharel gone, there was no one to disrupt their happiness. 

Thus the years had passed swiftly, one day more glorious than the previous as the two spent time in each other's company, time they had once thought would never happen again. 

"Elthríel! Where have you been?"

Amarië glanced up and smiled, closing the book she had been reading. "In here. I was reading one of your histories you had written."

"Was it so engaging as for you to forget about me?" Finrod asked, coming up to her and planting a kiss on her forehead. 

"Nay, time passed swifter than I had realized. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. 'Tis almost evening and I have been looking for you."

She laughed. "You should have thought to check the library first. Then your pains need not have been wasted."

"True enough," he led her out of the room, closing the door behind them both. "A new melody has been forming in my mind during the council this morning, and I wish for you to tell me what you think of it."

"Does it have words?" she asked, looking up at him and smiling. His arm was across her shoulders as he led her swiftly through the halls. 

"Not yet. It's a different type of song than before. Something like unto that which we would have written in Valinor. A jubilant melody, without any minor chords."

"I think that is indeed a difference than before," Amarië spoke at last. 

He led her into the room and she sat down on a seat as he picked up his small harp and briefly tuned the few strings that were off-tune. 

Then he played the song through. It was a short melody, but it stayed in her mind. 

When he finished, he laid his hands on the strings to still them and looked up at her. "Well?"

Amarië thought for a few minutes. "'Tis like a lullaby. But it needs words."

"Shall we write it together then?"

She smiled. "I would love to."

That evening, long after the others had retired for the night, the pair remained awake. And when they had at last gone to bed, it was only after finally perfecting and rewriting the song. Amarië could not remember a time when she had not put more effort in the song. Perhaps it was because this was the first song that was not sad, the first song that had a measure of hope. The darkness, it seemed, had passed, and a new day begun. 

And on the hilltop still they stand,

Over-looking the great, wide land

Ever onward till end of days

When the sun last shines her rays

And the stars fade away

Never to shine at end of day

For it is a song of new beginnings.

Perhaps it was nothing. But to her, to Finrod, it meant much. 

That night, right before she fell asleep, Amarië felt a strange sensation shoot through her. A warm tingling. 

Lifting up her head, she looked over to see if Finrod was still awake, but he was not. Making a mental note to speak to him of it in the morning, she rolled over and closed her eyes. She did not know what it was; whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, and she hoped he might know. A cold feeling filled her as she suddenly remembered Morgoth's threat. 

Maybe it was nothing. Then again, what if it wasn't?

Agh, I'm so mean. 

I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know if you did! What do you think that tingling meant? ;)

Can't wait to hear from you!

~ Gwynnedd